Felicia and I settled into our new lives and got to know our younger peers. My twin, Carolyn, was living on her own without me for the first time as well.

I tried not to verbalize how left out I felt while I watched my sister enjoy all the things that eighth grade promised like dating, going to prom and graduating to high school. I was angry for a long time at my mother because that should have been for me, too.

Carolyn’s friends remained close and they were always at the house for sleepovers. We would stay up all night talking about our latest crushes, how much we hated our classes and all the other things that matter so much to preteens. I was so jealous that sometimes I would make unkind comments.

One of Carolyn's best friend's that I argued with a lot was Dawna Hunzinger. Our love-hate relationship was due partly to my jealousy that she might be taking my place and to Dawna’s willingness to call me out when I deserved it. I was slightly afraid of her since she looked like she could take me down.

Our arguing did not ever cross the line, for we both loved Carolyn. And I did like that Dawna was loyal to and protective of my sister. It never occurred to me to ask my mom to tell her not to come over.

My siblings and I never tried to ban each other’s friends from the house. We would just argue and bicker with them like they were family, too.

As unlikely as it may have seemed to me at the time, Dawna taught me a valuable lesson about life that reverberated over the years.

On Jan. 6, 2006, Mom let us stay up with her to watch the news. My brother, Zacheria, had us rolling around laughing at his jokes while Mom was finishing up the laundry. When the commercial breaks were over, she hushed us up.

I was sitting on the floor next to Carolyn as the anchors solemnly announced that a fire had killed a father and daughter in Buna. Dawna's face popped up on the screen.

The deep silence that followed was broken just as suddenly when my twin began to scream.

I felt her pain radiate through my body. Confused and afraid, I had no idea how to react.

I watched as our mother leapt from the couch and put her body over my sister, trying to shield her.

The anchor continued. Dawna's house caught fire at 10 that morning. While my family went about our day without a worry in the world, a 14-year-old girl was pulling her little brother from their burning home and racing back in to save their father, who was confined to a wheelchair.

The three years I had known her flashed across my mind, and I felt such sadness for a girl whose last moments in this world were filled with terror and choking smoke. I look back now in awe. How brave and full of love she was, giving up everything to ensure the safety of her little brother.

Dawna may not have been my close friend, but she was my twin’s best friend, and they loved each other like sisters. Dawna’s final act taught me about bravery, true love and the importance of family. Her life also showed me that not all friendships are the forever kind.

Eighth-grade prom, a dance Dawna had planned to attend, was dedicated to her that year.

Carolyn and I changed after that. We held on tighter to our friends. Either the girls were at our home, or we would go to their homes. My mother hardly ever saw us alone.

In death, Dawna taught me to cherish each day with the ones we love like it will be the last we get to spend with them.